Bride for a Night
“Most important, you are mistaken if you dare to think that I am anything but absurdly happy that you are the current Countess of Ashcombe.”
She flinched at the low words, desperate to believe him even as she was terrified to endure yet another disappointment.
“I just overheard you admitting that you could not bear to have Silas Dobson step over your precious threshold,” she reminded him, her voice harsh. “How can you forget that I am his daughter?”
He muttered a curse, shoving impatient fingers through his hair.
“Dammit, Talia, he is not welcome in my home because of what he has done to you.”
“To me?”
“Why would you be surprised?” His brows snapped together at her bewilderment. “You are his only child. He should have cherished you as the precious treasure that you are, but instead he bullied you into entering society despite the obvious fact you were miserable among the foolish twits.”
The same thoughts had passed through Talia’s mind more than once, but Silas was her father and for all his selfishness she would always love him.
“He was doing what he thought best for me.”
“He did what was best for himself.”
“Gabriel,” she attempted to protest.
“No,” he said in unyielding tones. “I must say this and it will never be mentioned again.”
She hunched a shoulder. “If you insist.”
“Silas Dobson is consumed with a hunger to rise above his humble beginnings, which is an admirable enough trait until he realized he could not purchase his way in society. His only option was to barter his daughter for the title he longed to possess.”
His hand lifted as her lips parted to inform him that he had no need to point out her father’s faults. She was intimately acquainted with her father’s lust for social acceptance and his willingness to go to any lengths to satisfy them.
Heaving a sigh, she snapped her lips shut, and Gabriel continued.
“He gave no thought to you or your happiness when he chose Harry as your bridegroom, who anyone with the least amount of sense would have known would make you a terrible husband, or when he demanded that I take my brother’s place. He treated you as if you were his property, not his only family, and to my mind that i
s unforgivable.”
“I do not defend my father,” she softly argued, “but he cannot change who he is.”
Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “No, I suppose he cannot.”
“And he is the only family I have.”
“Yes, I know.” His expression softened. “And if I am to be completely honest, I owe him a debt of gratitude I can never repay.”
“Gratitude?”
His lips twisted into a humorless smile at her bewilderment.
“Did you never realize how often I glanced in your direction when we were in the same room?”
“Enough, Gabriel.” Her brows snapped together at his poor jest. “There is no need to pretend…”
“This is no pretense,” he interrupted. “I noticed you the first occasion you were introduced to society. How could I not? Unlike the other debutantes who were forever giggling and fluttering about like irritating butterflies in an effort to attract attention, you always sat apart.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, wishing he would not play with her tortured heart.
“That is because I was unwelcome, as you very well know.”
“Not entirely.” He took a cautious step forward, although he was wise enough not to try and grab her. She was so fragile at the moment she thought she might shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest touch. “You are not the sort to be content with the role of a silly flirt who has no interest beyond dancing and the latest gossip.” He peered deep into her wide eyes. “You were as bored at those parties as I was.”